


The Blanca Rosa

by CarnationGem (Akumeoi)



Series: Ciavran [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: (it ends well tho), Antiva City, Established Relationship, F/M, Innuendo, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Prostitution, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 09:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/CarnationGem
Summary: After the events of Awakening, the Warden gets tired of waiting for Zevran to dismantle the Crows and goes to find him in Antiva City, where he has been living in a whorehouse.





	The Blanca Rosa

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the stuff Ciara says is referring to [these letters](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4051360/chapters/9115615) which she exchanged with Zevran during the events of Awakening.

Ciara checked the street sign with a glance as she turned a corner onto the Via Nilo. It was dark out and the street itself was deserted, but she could see candle-light gleaming through the cracks of shuttered windows all along the street. She had the feeling that if she knocked at any of these doors, they would open for her without a word - as long as she proved she had coin with her. 

But she wasn’t here to engage the services of the women or men who lurked behind those well-oiled doors. No, she was here because she had heard that her beloved Zevran was staying at a questionable institution called the Blanca Rosa, and whether he was there as a client, a worker, or a simple stowaway, she intended to find him. 

It had been a little under a year since they were last together. When Ciara had been called to Vigil’s Keep, Zevran had decided to take the opportunity to go to Antiva and finish off his vendetta against the Crows. Now that her work at the Keep was done, Ciara saw no reason that they should be separated any longer. She had sent word ahead to him in a letter, but she didn’t know if it had reached him. 

In a matter of minutes, she would find out.

There it was - just across the street, a shabby-looking house bearing a painted white rose on the sign above the door. Ciara paused involuntarily, then made her way over to its peeling, dark, wood door. 

Before she could knock, the door opened. A tall, languid-looking woman in scanty dress with a flower tucked between her breasts stood just inside. 

Leaning against the doorframe, the woman said in a sultry voice, “Good evening, gorgeous. Little late for you to be paying us a visit, isn’t it?”

Ciara inclined her head politely. “I have business here, but not of your usual variety, I’ll wager. I’ve come to visit someone.”

“A visit which isn’t part of our “usual variety”, hmm?” the woman asked. “I suppose you’d better come on in, then. I hope they’re expecting you?”

“Probably,” Ciara said, following the woman inside. There was one candle burning in the entrance area, and though the room was calm it was far from quiet. Sighs, moans, and whispers of suppressed laughter permeated the air, curling around corners and disappearing before they could be properly seen. Ciara surmised that it was a full house tonight.

“So, what can I do for you, darling?” 

Wondering if it were possible for this woman to say anything without sounding as if she were trying to seduce someone, Ciara replied, “I’m looking for Zevran Arainai.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she immediately straightened up, her posture much less relaxed. “Oh? What do you want with him? You are aware he’s not taking customers anymore?”

 _Customers? What kind of customers?_ thought Ciara, but she was not unduly concerned. “I wasn’t aware that he was taking any in the first place,” she said. “I’m... a friend of his.”

“A friend of his, huh? You wouldn’t happen have some other friends called the Crows, would you?” The woman rested her hand on the wall, and Ciara guessed that there were some kind of concealed panic button there, or perhaps a switch that would open up the ground and drop her right into the cellar.

“No, no. Of course not,” Ciara said hastily, knowing that the quiver of arrows and expensive-looking bow strapped to her back were not speaking in her favour. “My name is Ciara Tabris. Perhaps he has spoken of me. I truly am his friend. His... well, never mind.”

“His lover? You poor thing. Did he tell you that?”

Ciara sighed. “Look, who cares what I am,” she said impatiently. “I came all the way from Denerim to see him, and that’s that.”

The answer to the woman’s question was - yes, Zevran _had_ told her that. Perhaps not explicitly, but he was easy to read. And Ciara trusted Zevran. Still, she found it strange that the woman didn’t recognise her name. Zevran had indicated in his letters that he couldn’t help himself from talking about her to others. Perhaps this woman was simply not well acquainted with him. That, or she had a terrible memory.

Shaking her head, the woman sidled over to another doorway, stuck her head out into the hall, and called for someone called “Fiore”. The two of them had a hurried, whispered conference, which Ciara tried to eavesdrop on but could not understand, as it was in Antivan and they were speaking too fast. Suddenly, their voices paused. Fiore, who had turned to be a fairly young elven woman with a rose behind her ear, also scantily dressed, peered in at Ciara. 

“It’s her,” she said, and for some reason that phrase made Ciara’s gut clench. 

Fiore and the other woman entered the room. 

“As it turns out, dear, Zevran did tell us about you,” said Fiore. Her voice wasn’t as sultry as the first woman’s, but it was also clearly designed to appeal. “That’s if you are who you say you are, naturally. But I’m sure he can take care of you if you aren’t.”

“That’ll be the fourth time this month we clean blood off his floor,” the other woman muttered.

“I promise not to get blood on your floor,” Ciara said with barely concealed condescension, inwardly rolling her eyes. Fiore snorted, then picked up the candle on the table and led Ciara out of the room. Following her through the narrow corridor, Ciara’s heart began to beat faster. Was it excitement? Nervousness? Maybe a mix of both. She told herself that this feeling was stupid, but... she also couldn’t help but want to savour it. 

Arriving at the door at the end of the hall, Fiore rapped on it sharply. 

“Yes? Who is it?”

_Zevran’s voice!_

Ciara inadvertently took a step back. Hearing her footfalls, Fiore turned and saw Ciara’s expression, and laughed quietly, but not unkindly. 

“There’s someone here to see you,” Fiore said. “I hear she came all the way from Ferelden. You’re a lucky boy. She’s adorable.”

There was a moment of absolute silence, in which Ciara could keenly hear the rustling and creaking and other noises coming from the rooms around them.

“Ah, a friend from Ferelden, you say? I’ll see her in,” Zevran said through the door. Nodding to Ciara, Fiore turned and walked back down the corridor. Then the door opened. 

It was Zevran. It was really him, right in front of her. He had one hand poised on the doornob and the other was holding a knife. 

“ _Ciara_?” 

She had only a moment to register the knife being tossed down onto the floor before she was pulled inside the room by strong hands. He shut the door behind her, then pushed her up against it and began raining kisses on her face and neck.

“It is like being visited by a vision or a dream. But you are real. I do not believe it!” he said breathlessly in between kisses.

“Zevran, Zevran,” Ciara panted, though her quiver was digging painfully into her back. She managed to gently push him away from her, then took it and the bow off and leaned both of them up in a corner. As she turned back to him, he caught up both of her hands in his and led her over to the bed so they could sit down.

Now that she had a moment to catch her breath, she should have been taking in the details of the tiny, sparse room, but all she could see was Zevran’s face. He looked much the same as he had at their parting, but somewhat more tired. The moonlight coming in from the half-cracked window was enough for her to see that his blond hair was as perfectly arranged as ever. Feeling as if she hardly knew where to begin, Ciara drank in his eyes and skin and smile, tightened the fingers curled around his, and found suddenly that she couldn’t stop from smiling.

“I missed you too,” she said at last. Slowly lifting one hand, Zevran touched the earring she wore - the one he had given her - then brushed her cheek as he lowered his hand to be clasped between them again.

“I did not expect - how did you find me here?” he murmured.

“I asked around a little bit,” Ciara said airily. “It did require a good deal of time, effort, and coin. And some strategic name-dropping. But...” Her eyes dropped shyly to her lap. “It was worth it. There’s no one in Ferelden quite like you.”

“Of course there isn’t. I am undoubtedly the only person in all of Thedas who actually knows how to kiss,” Zevran said dismissively, and Ciara laughed. 

“I did send word ahead. I must have beaten it here.”

“Do not worry, I love surprises. I received a letter saying that your business at the Vigil was concluded, but I did not realise you would come all the way to Antiva,” Zevran said. “But where is your faithful hound? It is unlike you to travel alone.”

“I left Dog with Shianni in Denerim. I didn’t know if the climate of Antiva would agree with him,” Ciara explained. “I do miss him.”

“Well, I do not know how long you intend to stay for, but I’m sure you will be seeing him again soon,” Zevran said soothingly. But Ciara shook her head.

“I’m not leaving Antiva until you leave Antiva.”

Surprise flickered across Zevran’s face. “But don’t you have Warden business of some sort to attend to?”

“Probably,” Ciara admitted. “But I don’t care. I want to help you fight the Crows. And after that... well, I hope that you’ll consider coming back to Ferelden with me.” A moment of doubt halted her words. “You would be interested, I assume.”

“I would follow you to the moon if that is where you desired to go,” Zevran said, and Ciara grinned, thinking that Fiore and her friend had been completely wrong about Zevran. Of course. 

“The moon, hmm? I heard there’s a colony of nugs up there. Maybe we should go fetch one for Leliana as a present.” 

“Of course, my Warden, we shall go at once. I am but a humble Antivan assassin. I live to serve my lady Ciara’s wishes,” said Zevran, inclining his head in a mock bow.

“You do, do you?” Ciara said. Pausing, she wondered if she she dared to ask the question that had been floating around in her mind for the better part of her journey. Yes, it seemed she did dare. “Well then, tell me something. Why are you living in this whorehouse, of all places?”

Zevran shrugged. “I cannot help it that my only friends in all of Antiva are whores.”

“So this is why you were urging me to sleep with Nathaniel Howe.” Ciara’s voice was matter-of-fact, with only a hint of accusation.

“What? No. No, not at all,” Zevran protested. When Ciara raised her eyebrows, he elaborated. “Well... perhaps a little. You see, they said I could stay here for free if I became a temporary one of their number and gave them the proceeds. I originally took them up on that offer. But I soon found that sleeping with strangers had become strangely boring to me. Customers complained about me, so, alas, I had to become a temporary man-at-arms for them instead, though I fear I may cause them as much trouble as I manage to prevent. It has all been most amusing - for the whores. Not so much for myself. You are not upset with me, are you?”

Ciara laughed, leaning slightly towards him. “Of course not. I was more upset with you for not telling me what was going on than I was with you for sleeping with someone else. I thought it was... in your nature.”

“So did I,” Zevran admitted. “It always has been in the past. But it seems I was wrong this time. And to be quite honest, I did not tell you because I did not think my lodgings were a point of much interest. They are rather shabby, I’m afraid. The only thing of any quality in this room is the bed. But that is only important now that you are here. Perhaps you would like to help me find a use for it.”

“Fair enough,” Ciara conceded. “If you’re willing, I would love to hear about all the _other_ points of interest. I’m sure there are plenty. And, uh, to test the bed with you.”

“Tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine?” Zevran asked, and she nodded. “Very well. But... perhaps the storytelling could wait until morning.”

His gaze flickered down to her mouth, and she knew instantly what he was thinking.

“It’s been a long, long time,” she murmured, and she saw a grin flash across his face. Then he was all smooth, gleaming eyes and sly hands sliding impatiently to the buckles on her leather armour. 

“I think it’s been the longest time in my life,” he said. “And you have not grown any the less beautiful, my Ciara.”

“And what better place for this than a whorehouse?” Ciara said. 

Leaning in to kiss him, she felt his laughter on her lips. And then he tasted like home.


End file.
